Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Namibia and from Stockholm.
But I was there.
I was there in 1968.
I was there at the first Can show in Cologne.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1965 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Bremen and Stockholm.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Spokane kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971 at the first Big Star practice in a loft in Memphis.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Donald Fagen started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Colin Newman to the punk kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Intrusion. All the underground hits.
All Angels of Light & Akron/Family tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Marine Girls record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '70s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a The Mummies record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your güiro and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a güiro.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Arcadia,
the Sonics,
Flamin' Groovies,
Duran Duran,
Rapeman,
Pagans,
Bootsy Collins,
The Sonics,
Motorama,
The Vogues,
Captain Beefheart & His Magic Band,
Alice Coltrane,
Jesper Dahlback,
Robert Hood,
Roxette,
Matthew Bourne,
Anthony Braxton,
Peter and Kerry,
Barclay James Harvest,
The Gun Club,
Lindisfarne,
Deadbeat,
Saccharine Trust,
the Fania All-Stars,
Prince Buster,
Magma,
The Blackbyrds,
The Mojo Men,
Ken Boothe,
Franke,
Lower 48,
The Music Machine,
The Golliwogs,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Gang Gang Dance,
Idris Muhammad,
8 Eyed Spy,
Heaven 17,
Peter & Gordon,
Pharoah Sanders,
The Raincoats,
Ituana,
The Shadows of Knight,
The Kinks,
Neu!,
Skarface,
Grandmaster Flash,
Connie Case,
Mark Hollis,
Gichy Dan,
Todd Rundgren,
Rufus Thomas,
Bill Wells,
The Tremeloes,
Inner City,
Niagra,
The J.B.'s,
Metal Thangz,
Television,
Coldchain, Rosco P., Featuring Pusha T from Clipse & Boo-Bonic,
Albert Ayler,
Sam Rivers,
The Last Poets,
World's Most, World's Most, World's Most, World's Most.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.